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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30076266">The Lamentation of Broken Men</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ROWEN_CALDERON/pseuds/ROWEN_CALDERON'>ROWEN_CALDERON</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>HLVRAI - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Melting flesh in one scene maybe more, Mental Breakdown, Mild Gore, Non-Canonical Character Death, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Torture, Skeletons, Spooky Month, Tags May Change, They’re not AI, White Room, except it’s not the spooky month it’s just spooky, gordon Freeman is trans, gordon has adhd, it’s not directly stated but it’s there, it’s referenced and it’s real, not canon, tw, yeah this fic isn’t fun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:33:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30076266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ROWEN_CALDERON/pseuds/ROWEN_CALDERON</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The funny guys get put in a White Room! I wonder what shenanigans will occur?</p>
<p>Please read the tags and do your research on what White Rooms are if you don’t know already. Thank you:)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>You don’t get soft shit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. We Don’t Have Many Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>oh no<br/>here we go<br/>I’m gonna forget to put tw’s for some things so just.<br/>be aware of the tags because *most* things in there will repeat</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What defines a person as good?</p>
<p>Is it the way they helped their friend the other day, or how they selflessly sacrificed their well being for others? Or perhaps, it’s how the person lives their life- living it to the fullest, despite the consequences that may follow? The question of being “good” or “bad”, is one that humans have not been able to answer. There’s too many variables- too many questions of morals and actions, and is far too tedious to understand or comprehend. </p>
<p>Humans have an understanding of what is good, and what is bad. For example, if you donate to your local charity, you are good. You are helping others at the cost of you losing your money. On the other hand, if you commit a crime, such as murder on an innocent passerby, you are bad. You took someone else’s life, unknowing of their story or what they were doing that day. Because of this understanding of good and bad, humans have come up with a system they call “karma.” Karma, like actions, can be good or bad. Good karma could be aligned with winning the lottery, being healed from that sickly disease you had, and several other positive outcomes that vary. However, bad karma exists as well. You yourself could be murdered- become the so-called innocent passerby, or something less extreme. </p>
<p>Sometimes, people are just in the wrong places at the wrong time, and end up getting themselves into a situation that they weren’t meant to be in. Or rather, a situation they don’t believe they deserved to be put into. This is a less frequent occurrence, but it does happen, nonetheless. The good happens to those who are bad, and the bad happens to those who are good.</p>
<p>So, what really defines a person as good? Is it the way that they think they are the hero, or is it the way that everyone else thinks they are?</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Pain.</p>
<p>Pain was the first thing that Gordon Freeman noticed. His body burned with the sensation of cuts and bruises and other various wounds scattered around his body. His body that was laid face down on a surface that he didn’t recognize, in a place that was just as obscure. He sputtered into consciousness, slowly opening his eyes to become adjusted to the bright, piercing light above him. Actually, it wasn’t even that bright- just painfully monotone white. </p>
<p>He hated the color white.</p>
<p>The second thing he noticed was that he couldn’t see worth a shit, and not just because his eyes were still getting adjusted to the mono-white of the room he now found himself in. He placed his hand over his face and- yep. Sure enough, whatever had gotten him here, had forgotten to give him the luxury of giving him his glasses back. Great, now he was in pain, and he was basically legally blind. It was an inconvenience, but he’d learn to get over it eventually. Besides, from what he could tell, he wasn’t exactly going anywhere anytime soon- so being able to see long distance didn’t seem like it’d be much of a concern. The room was only around 3-4 meters by 5-6 meters, after all. </p>
<p>Though it took him a minute, he’d finally been able to stand on his own two feet- save for the couple of times he almost crumbled back down to the floor from a shooting pain in his left ankle. Sprained, maybe? Or broken? In the moment, he couldn’t exactly tell, but if he was able to limp from place to place, he assumed that it couldn’t have been that bad of an injury. That, or he was still in a state of shock.<br/>
Gordon took a moment to take in his surroundings, still trying to process where he actually was. At first glance, the room would have easily been passed off as an empty storage room at Black Mesa; built, but never being actually used for anything, much like many rooms there.<br/>
But as the initial shock started to wear away, and he started to see more clearly, he had a turning feeling in his gut that made him realize that this wasn’t Black Mesa. Or, if it was, it sure as hell wasn’t a part he’d ever seen before. There was a large metal door on the adjacent side to where he’d woken up, seeming to only be able to be opened by a passcode, as he’d been able to make out a keypad-like figure on the door handle. No getting out without the code. Though, despite knowing the outcome, he limped over to the door anyways, and reached out to grab the door handle with his right hand.</p>
<p>Before realizing it’d been completely dismembered from his body.</p>
<p>He stared at his amputated arm for a couple seconds in pure shock, trying to figure out if what he was seeing was real. And, just as the hope of this possibly just being some weird, lucid dream started to set in, an overwhelming sore pain in the amputated area shot up his arm and hit him like an eighteen wheeler. He clutched onto the arm with his left, trying desperately to numb the pain somehow. But, as another pain shot through him, he crumbled back down to the floor in front of the door, slamming his head against it. The bruises on his body was one thing, his fractured ankle was one thing, the dread of this place possibly being his coffin was one thing, but this was on a whole different level. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t help but choke out a sob as the seething discomfort that covered his body only seemed to get worse and worse. He could feel every bruise, every cut, every fracture, just hitting him all at once, and it felt like genuine hell. He fell over onto his side, grating his teeth together and shutting his eyes tighter than he ever had before, trying desperately to try and forget about everything that was happening. Maybe if he tried hard enough, and maybe if he focused hard enough, then maybe he could force himself to pass out and wake up later. Maybe if he just put all his thought into it, then maybe the pain would be enough to-</p>
<p>“mmmrrhh.”</p>
<p>A groan echoed from the other side of the room. Gordon couldn’t make out what or who it was in the moment, as he’d still been trying to force himself to somehow go unconscious, but the noise had distracted him. Maybe that was a good thing. No- it was definitely a good thing. Who knows what would’ve happened if he’d gone unconscious. And the best thing now, in this situation, is that now he knows he isn’t alone. He doesn’t have to go through this alone, and that’s all he could ever ask for.<br/>
Opening his eyes, and having once again to get used to the mono-white of the room, he noticed new things. One, all of the science team was with him. That was good. And two, there was a camera in the corner of the room, similar to one you’d see in a high-surveillance part of a store, or when you entered. One that showed the reflection of the room, and everyone and everything in it.<br/>
They were being watched.</p>
<p>“mmmph. duuude.”</p>
<p>The voice groaned once again, and it was no question who was finally awake as well.</p>
<p>“Ben- Benrey? Is that, you?”</p>
<p>Gordon choked out, wiping his eyes as he attempted to appear like he wasn’t having a breakdown just now. Though, the red veins that tainted the whites of his eyes, the bags under them, and the raspiness of his voice honestly gave it away. He really hoped that Benrey wouldn’t be able to notice- but he wasn’t human anyway, maybe he wouldn’t be able to figure it out.<br/>
From the other side of the room, a lanky figure began to move each of his limbs, looking as if he’d never moved before, and was just getting used to actually using his muscles. First it was his head that moved to the side slightly when he awoke, then it was his fingers, arms, and kept going down until he had complete control over his body once again. Benrey sat up from the floor, now staring at Gordon with a peculiar expression. He didn’t seem like he was too concerned, or hurt, or anything like that- but he never seemed that way anyways. Always just drifting by, and never really showing much emotion. </p>
<p>“yo. you look kinda fucked up.”</p>
<p>“Wh- really? Do I, actually look that bad?”</p>
<p>“yeah man.”</p>
<p>Gordon took a second to look at himself, and noticed a couple more things. One, he’d been taken out of his Hazardous Environments Suit, which led to a whole different line of questions. He thought that the suit could only be taken off in the specific rooms where you put them on at- actually, he was certain that that was how it worked. Did the people who brought him here somehow pry it off of him, or was he taken to one of the “suiting up” areas? It hurt his already throbbing head to think about it, so he decided he’d try and worry about it later. But the thought was still there, and it would be pecking at his brain until he got an answer, or found something worse to worry about.<br/>
Second, instead of the HEV suit, he was dressed in cotton white shorts and a tee made out of the same material and color, and so was the rest of the team in the room. He had to admit, it was definitely more comfortable than the suit, but it made him feel exposed. He felt unsafe, despite there not being any current danger. He felt like if something were to happen, he’d be completely defenseless and would die on the spot. Then what would he do? What would Joshua do? What would-<br/>
He had to hit himself on the head a couple times to keep from spiraling. Now wasn't the time for that.<br/>
And third, his arm that had been amputated was firmly bandaged up, and from what he could tell, was completely disinfected. At least he wouldn’t be getting any sort of infection from it. That was good. Celebrate the small things right now. Focus on the things that are positive. </p>
<p>Finally, he was able to bring himself together, sitting back up and staring back at the creature. Benrey didn’t exactly look worried, but he did have some sort of emotion on his expression for once. Interest, perhaps? Or, maybe he had heard everything, including Gordon’s meltdown, and was silently judging him. That’d be just wonderful.</p>
<p>“what are you staring for?”</p>
<p>Benrey said eventually after a couple minutes of silence and staring. </p>
<p>“What are you staring for?”</p>
<p>“you’re fucked up. head.”</p>
<p>“What about my head-? Is, Is there something wrong with-“</p>
<p>“you’re purple and black. people aren’t supposed to be those colors.”</p>
<p>He interrupted Gordon, brushing himself off as he trudged near the man on the floor. Gordon backed away in response- or tried to, as he was still against the wall- genuinely worried about what Benrey was about to do. He wouldn’t try and fuck with him right now, right? Not after they just woke up in some mysterious room with wounds and such, right? </p>
<p>“bro chill out. you got like, purple radiating off of you. you should be blue. calm.”</p>
<p>“What is THAT supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“I can see your emotion. now hold still.”</p>
<p>Gordon, with really no other option, held his body in place as Benrey sat down in front of him, the same monotone expression that honestly matched the vibe of the room still plastered onto his face. It’s always been impossible to read what he was feeling, but now was especially difficult. </p>
<p>“im gonna- use my heal beam. on you. and the rest of them when they wake up. you’re bad hurting, I can tell. so, like. don’t move.”</p>
<p>Oh?<br/>
Teal and green heal beam. Right. Gordon ceased his tenseness, thankful that he wasn’t about to be eaten alive or yelled at or something along those lines, because he really didn’t feel like dealing with either of those things right now. Or ever, actually. Benrey was going to help, and he didn’t have to worry. Yeah. It’ll be okay.<br/>
After a few minutes of self preparation, Benrey closed his eyes and furrowed his brows under the shade of his helmet, which whoever brought them here had decided to let him keep. He opened his jaw to reveal his yellowed, saw-like teeth, and waited for the beam to arrive.</p>
<p>It never came.<br/>
That’s not right.</p>
<p>He cleared his throat- maybe trying to get it out of his lungs? Or, wherever it comes from? And he tried again- he tried again about five times, but no beam or Sweet Voice ever came. </p>
<p>“wh. dude. they took my fucking powers, that’s so mean. why’d- why’d they do that.”</p>
<p>Despite the lifelessness in Benrey’s voice, the new expression in his face showed that he was clearly distressed. His eyes blinked rapidly, and his teeth rattled with the thought that after what happened all his powers were suddenly gone.<br/>
After what happened.<br/>
… What happened?</p>
<p>“loserman.”</p>
<p>Gordon groaned. He wasn’t in the mood to be called names right now, but he knew that Benrey was still Benrey, no matter what situation you put him in. He’ll always be a snarky son of a bitch with an expression you can’t ever read and motives that are completely unknown, because that’s just who he is.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“what, happened. why this? why here? you- you got a big brain. smaller than mine, but still big brain. and, you should remember. what happened.”</p>
<p>‘You should remember.’<br/>
That phrase ringed in his head for a second, recalling the numerous times that he’d forgotten major events or what he had been doing just a couple seconds prior.<br/>
‘You should remember, Gordon.’</p>
<p>But, thankfully, this was one of the times he actually felt like he could recall bits and pieces.<br/>
He remembered the team was getting ready to rest for the night- they’d settled down in a secluded area, where they were sure they wouldn’t be detected by the military or aliens. Every night before they all went to bed, they always had these lengthy discussions of people, the mind, psychology, all sorts of fun, existential things. That night, Gordon had brought up the discussion of what makes a person good. The team all had different answers, ranging from “Being a good person means that you’re selfless and help others out the best that you can,” and “Being a good person means that you live your life to the fullest, despite the consequences that may follow.” They talked for a long time that night, specifically Gordon did. He wasn’t sure if he saw himself as “a good person” after what he’d done- but the others reassured him that despite everything, he was still a hero.<br/>
He didn’t feel like one.</p>
<p>Everything after that was somewhat hazy- except for the feeling that he was being watched as he drifted off into unconsciousness. He, and the rest of the group, were awoken by a military ambush, where they fought to the best of their abilities but lost anyway. They were all knocked unconscious one by one, and now they’re all here.<br/>
That’s it. The military.</p>
<p>“The military.”</p>
<p>“huh?”</p>
<p>“Remember? We all went to bed, and then a bunch of boot boys ambushed us? I’m like, 99% sure they took us here.”</p>
<p>“why?”</p>
<p>“I- I don’t know. Man I- I don’t know everything! I just- remembered that part- I can’t even recall anything from earlier that day. And- besides, they wouldn’t tell us anyways.”</p>
<p>Benrey looked as if he were pondering something for a moment, looking from the floor, to the left and right, and then back to Gordon. </p>
<p>“should we, wake everyone up?”</p>
<p>“...Nah. They- They need the rest. They’re gonna need it. And I- doubt we’ll be sleeping much now. That doesn’t really matter to you, though- you don’t sleep, right?”</p>
<p>“yeah.”</p>
<p>“Thought so.”</p>
<p>The conversation between the two ended there, and they both went off to their respective corners. Benrey took a corner that was closer to the still unconscious science team, while Gordon took one that was farthest away. He needed a second to calm down and take everything in. This place- it wasn’t good. It reminded him of something akin to a hospital- which he’d had a fear of for a while now. Hospitals were never good, and they always contained nothing except the pain and suffering of people. Not even the patients, but the nurses, doctors, surgeons, etc, as well. It made him depressed, to put it bluntly, and he refused to think about it.<br/>
He didn’t know how long he was going to be here, or if he was ever going to get out. He didn’t even know if his other friends in the corner were still alive, and he wasn’t about to find out either. </p>
<p>It was going to be a long journey ahead, and he was going to dread every single second of it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Drifting Time Misplaced</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>bommy boolatta knowledge moments.</p><p>also gordos feetman breakdown moments part 2 electric booglaloo<br/>there’s gonna be plenty more where that came from</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Three hundred forty… Three hundred forty one… Three hundred- forty three?’</p><p>Gordon counted to himself in his head. It kept his mind off of spiraling, and despite him accidentally skipping numbers every now and again or having to start over because he forgot what number he was on, it helped him keep some sense of time. On top of that, though it wasn’t his main priority, it also helped pass the time by. <br/>Occasionally while counting, he’d glance around the room, waiting for some sort of movement from the others. Sometimes, he’d hear movement, but then find out it was just Benrey off in his corner uncomfortably shifting on the floor. He was met with disappointment every time this happened, genuinely starting to get worried about the others. Their bodies were laid about the room in awkward positions, looking as if they’d just been thrown in without a single care from the person who had thrown them. It made Gordon upset in a way, frustrated that his friends had been treated that way.</p><p>Well, except Benrey. He deserved that. </p><p>Right?</p><p>It didn’t matter. He knew he couldn’t feel pain anyways.</p><p>Right?</p><p>Either way, Gordon didn’t care. He and Benrey weren’t friends. They never were. Not even colleagues, or associates, so he shouldn’t care about what happens to him.</p><p>Right?</p><p>He’d lost himself in thoughts, ceasing the counting for the time being. He’d gotten bored, anyways. His fingers drummed against the flooring of the room, an unconscious movement he’d done every now and again whenever he was bored or worried. He knew it probably annoyed people- in this case, Benrey- because of how the sound echoed off the walls, but it wasn’t his fault. <br/>Time passed by; seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. It felt like hours since he’d been in here, but he knew that when you’re feeling jaded, mere seconds can feel like eons. </p><p>‘The others should be awake by now…’ He thought to himself, over and over again. <br/>He knew it’d be rude to wake them up, but he couldn’t stand to just see them all like that. He knew he’d just said that he was just going to wait. He knew all this, and yet, his mind screamed at him to make sure that they were all okay. <br/>And so, he listened. He stood up from his corner, the pain in his ankle still being ever so present, though thankfully not as much, and trudged over to Tommy. Tommy was a young man- thirty six, right? Gordon knew that he’d probably be alright; it was Coomer and Bubby that he was more concerned about. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try and wake them all up.<br/>With a gentle shake of the shoulder, he attempted to wake the taller man awake as calmly as possible. </p><p>Calm was not what happened.<br/>With a stutter, Tommy awoke from unconsciousness, instinctively grabbing Gordon’s hand in a sort of- retaliation?</p><p>“P-PLEASE! WE- WE, WE DIDN’T D-DO ANYTHING!”</p><p>He wailed at Gordon, his eyes shut tight and a noticeable tremble going through his body. Frightened, Gordon let go of his friend and scooted away. Had he thought that the military ambush was still happening-? God, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Well, there wasn’t any going back now.</p><p>“Tommy, calm down! You’re okay! We’re- We’re all okay. You’re alright.”</p><p>Shaking with pure terror, Tommy backed away as well, slowly opening his eyes to get adjusted to the new scenery. It took him a moment, but he’d finally been able to compose himself, knowing that he wasn’t in any immediate danger. </p><p>“Mister- Mister Freeman?”</p><p>“Y-Yeah?”</p><p>‘Okay. He’s calm now. This is good.’</p><p>“Where, what happened? Or- I mean- I know what happened- but where, are we?”</p><p>“I- I don’t know. I’m assuming we’re still in, you know- Black Mesa, but I’ve never seen this part of the facility before..”</p><p>“Oh- Oh, yeah! This- This is definitely still in Black Mesa! I’ve- I was here when they still had their psychology department still active! I used- I used to work here, before they, moved me. Because, the experiments were too, devastating.”</p><p>‘Psychology department? Experiments?’</p><p>“What do you mean ‘experiments?’”</p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry, Mister Freeman… I’m- they said I’m not allowed to tell anyone. Or- Or I’d get in trouble. The psychology department was- not, fun… for anyone…”</p><p>‘Of course.’</p><p>“Okay… well, can you tell me what this is, at least?”</p><p>“It’s a- white room, Mister Freeman.”</p><p>‘A white room?’</p><p>Gordon was about to tell Tommy that he knew this was a white room, and that that was almost the only color present in the room, before taking a second to think about what he said. He’d heard about White Rooms before- a specific type of way to get information out of criminals and such, but-<br/>No. That couldn’t be what this was. He’d heard about how psychologically damaging these places were, and how it completely ruined the people in them. He couldn’t let that happen to himself. </p><p>“Like- Like a, white room?”</p><p>“I’m- I’m not sure, what you mean by that. It’s- It’s a white room, yes. That’s correct.”</p><p>Oh no.<br/>No no no. That can’t be right. He’d never even HEARD of the Psychology Department before this- maybe Tommy just hit his head? Or maybe this was still some bad dream? It had to be. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him.<br/>What had he done to get put here? Sure, he killed off a bunch of the military, but it was all in an act of self defense. He had a right.<br/>But he also killed those people in the elevator. And the man on the walk way.<br/>‘Those were accidents, they don’t count.’ He reminded himself. <br/>But what if they did? What if this is karma? What if-</p><p>“Mister Freeman?”</p><p>Oh. Right.</p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry. This is a lot to take in. You don’t know why we’re here, right?”</p><p>“...Right.” </p><p>Liar.<br/>No. Not a liar. Tommy wouldn’t lie to Gordon. Tommy’s his friend and would never try to hurt him or anyone else, plain and simple. It hurt Gordon that he even thought for a second that he’d lie to him, but it’s easy to think when he knew so much about this place. But he knows he’d never try to harm him, or any other members of the science team, because they’re all friends. They’re friends.<br/>Friends.</p><p>There was a few minutes of silence between the two; Tommy was getting more settled in, now sitting criss cross on the floor with his hands in his lap, and Gordon was still trying to process that he was in an actual torture room. <br/>Then there was a voice.</p><p>“hey. Tommy, bro. you know a lot of things.”</p><p>Benrey had made himself over to the duo without either of them noticing, most likely because they were both too caught up in their own worlds to really concentrate on anything other than the thoughts racing through both of their heads. Tommy jumped at the new voice- but it didn’t take him long to recollect.</p><p>“He- Hello Benrey! I- Like I said I used to- work in this department.”</p><p>“what’d you do here?”</p><p>“...I’m not allowed to- say.”</p><p>“come on man. we’ve been homies for like, ever. just tell. spill the beans. tip the can over already.”</p><p>“I- I really can’t! I’ll- I’ll get in trouble, if I do. They- said that if I told anyone about went down, down here then- I’d have to prepare for, consequences…”</p><p>“like what?”</p><p>“...I don’t, know…”</p><p>“oh. so you’re just gonna like, be intimidated by some old guys? bro they- they probably died from, things already. tell your buddy.”</p><p>“I highly- d-doubt that.”</p><p>They went back and forth for a while; Tommy refused to go into detail about anything, and refused to talk any longer about “them”, and Benrey continued to be pushy after being told off multiple times. Eventually, they stopped arguing, but only after Tommy had to raise his voice a tad to tell Benrey to shut up. It was honestly funny to watch from Gordon’s point of view, but he knew that Tommy was starting to get agitated after that point. He’d never heard him raise his voice at someone before, and he was sure Benrey hadn’t either. They, after a few minutes, of course apologized to each other and were back to their normal selves. </p><p>Afterwards, they’d started to talk about what they remembered the day that they were ambushed; Gordon went back over what he’d said earlier to Benrey, and Tommy added in a few new points. </p><p>“Yeah! I remember- the soldier's presence was really bad that day… We- I was convinced that we’d, wiped them all out! Like- Like how Dr Coomer said! But I- guess, we didn’t...”</p><p>“So, you think they were just waiting to ambush us from the start? Just sort of, waiting for the right time?”</p><p>“Y-Yeah. I- I think, so… Unless they, weren’t.”</p><p>“Definitely could be a possibility.”</p><p>They did this on and off for a few minutes, trying to put their heads together to figure out not what happened, but why. Benrey spoke exactly once, saying that, “it was probably losermans fault this is happening. always- always fucking shit up.” <br/>Suddenly, Tommy’s eyes lit up with what Gordon could tell was the maximum level of concern possible for Tommy.</p><p>“Oh- Oh my God! Mister- Mister Freeman! You- You don’t have a hand! How- How are you g-gonna- write?”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“You- just noticed that?”</p><p>“Doesn’t- Doesn’t that hurt?”</p><p>“I mean- it did. Not anymore though, kinda. Still sore.”</p><p>“he woke me up because he was crying over his uncool breakdown meltdown moment.”</p><p>“He- whuh? Are- Are you, okay?”</p><p>He wasn’t okay in the slightest.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah I’m- I’m holding up. Don’t worry.”</p><p>He wasn’t.</p><p>-</p><p>It wasn’t long after that that Coomer and Bubby awoke as well, apparently having been awake this entire time, according to Coomer. Which, Gordon didn’t find exactly pleasant to hear, so he hoped that it was just some sort of joke. Bubby, on the other hand, complained heavily about wanting to go back to bed. He did try to a couple times, before realizing that it was far too bright in the room to actually sleep. Gordon hoped that it wouldn’t always be this bright, as he was starting to get tired himself, but he didn’t want to give himself hope.<br/>With the entire group awake, they caught each other up on what had happened before and after they’d sat down for rest earlier that night. And, after Gordon mentioning that he felt like he was being watched right before he drifted off to unconsciousness, the rest of the group agreed. Tommy said something that particularly peeked Gordon’s interest; he’d said that whatever was watching him, it was something that he recognized. He knew it, and it knew him. </p><p>He knew that Tommy knew something the rest of them didn’t. There was no way that he didn’t. It might take a while, but Gordon was going to get it out of him one way or the other.<br/>He had to.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Internal Bewildered World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>THIS IS WHERE THE SKELETONS AND THE MELTING COME INTO PLAY BE CAUTIOUS THANKSSSS ALSO EXPLOSIONS MENTIONED?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No- NO! Listen! When we finally decided to rest for the day, we took a LEFT! NOT A RIGHT!”</p><p>“But- But I remember! We- We took a right, definitely!”</p><p>The science team had been arguing for a while about what route they took the night of the ambush, apparently trying to figure out how they’d gotten the military to notice them. Or, at least, that’s what Gordon thought they were doing. He’d been dozing in and out for a long while, and he didn’t exactly care about why they were discussing their route in the first place anyways. To him, it didn’t matter now, because they were trapped and there was nothing they could do about it. The existential dread of being stuck only proceeded to worsen as time flew by. He thought he was feeling despair before, but he knew now that this was the worst of it. <br/>He could even argue that this feeling was worse than when he was still in college; the grueling work, student loans, the inability to even get a job to pay student loans because he was too busy with schoolwork to do anything. And then on top of all of that, he was trying to raise a child by himself, which does not mix well with being in college, especially one like M.I.T. He remembered having to use the little money he had to pay for babysitters- having to use the little money he had for strangers to take care of the only thing he really cared about. <br/>He would have asked his parents for money, if they weren’t already broke and refused to talk to Gordon after he’d gotten testosterone and moved out on his own accord. <br/>With all these combined variables, and an already on-the-brink-of-having-a-mental-breakdown person, you get someone who looks like he hasn’t slept in a millennia, and feels like he hasn’t either. </p><p>There were good days, though. Days where he caught up on all his work, and was able to spend the day with his son. They couldn’t do much, but they occasionally went to the park, or another activity that didn’t require Gordon to pay out of pocket. Those were the days that kept him going. Those were the days that made him rethink a possibly fatal choice he could’ve made.<br/>Those days were good. <br/>There’s no more of those.<br/>Not anymore.</p><p>The good days didn’t end when he and the rest got trapped here. The good days didn’t end when the Resonance Cascade happened, either. And they didn’t happen when he inevitably met Benrey in the hallway.<br/>Gordon believed that all of his good days ended the second he walked into Black Mesa’s doors for the first time. His experience there wasn’t bad, per se, but rather it was the start of a chain of events that he now believed led up to this very moment. <br/>To him, that meant that every day in Black Mesa was a bad one. All of them.</p><p>“UGH! Fine, whatever! I guess you’re- Gordon?”</p><p>That’s him.</p><p>“Gordon, are you alright?”</p><p>Him.</p><p>“Gordon- answer me, you dumbass!”</p><p>Gordon.</p><p>“GORDON!”</p><p>“Wh- Huh? What’s happening? Did- Did something happen?”</p><p>“You’re crying.”</p><p>Oh.<br/>Bubby was right. He WAS crying. He didn’t feel like he was crying, or rather, he didn’t notice the waterworks going down his face. </p><p>With everyone now staring at him in what he hoped was concern, Gordon wiped his eyes off with his left hand; he was actually about to wipe them with his right, but- well, you know. The rest of the group exchanged glances with each other, with Tommy opening his mouth to say something, but being interrupted by Coomer. </p><p>“Gordon, are you alright?”</p><p>Not this again.</p><p>“Y-. Yeah. Guys- I swear. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry, really! I’m- I’m just stressed, you know?”</p><p>“We are as well, but you seem to be the most- affected, by this whole ordeal.”</p><p>“im never stressed. all chill vibes. 24/7 lo-fi beats in my brain.”</p><p>Benrey cut into the conversation, before getting a death glare from Bubby that made him recoil and move away a tad. <br/>Huh. That’s weird.</p><p>“Please, I’m being honest here, guys. I don’t- I don’t know why you’re so worried about me now anyways! You- never were before.”</p><p>The group exchanged glances once again, save for Benrey who had now taken safety in the corner of the room.</p><p>“Of- Of course we were! You just- never said anything so we…”</p><p>Tommy began to speak, but trailed off near the end, trying to find the right words to say so that he didn’t sound rude or mean. </p><p>“We just, because you never said anything, we didn’t say anything either.”</p><p>“...Oh.”</p><p>That was new knowledge. He was convinced that everyone just didn’t care. They’d all acted like they’d done this a million times before- like this was just second nature to them. He thought that maybe they didn’t notice that he was always one alien attack or ambush away from a breakdown, that maybe they were just too clueless to see the little signals. But, it soon hit him that maybe he never showed any signs at all. He’d been dealing with all the stress and anxiety in his mind, and he’d somehow thought that maybe it’d physically represented itself in the way he spoke to the team or something. <br/>But also in his mind, he was the leader.<br/>And the leader has to stay strong for the rest of the group, no matter what he’s going through. </p><p>The group waited for more of a response from Gordon, until realizing that he didn’t have anything else to say.<br/>That was okay. <br/>They went on with their previous conversation, the yelling from Bubby and the rest piercing Gordon’s ears the second it returned, but he got used to it. He was used to the loudness of the group by now. In a way, it gave him comfort. He knew that even now, the team was still the team. They always would be, no matter what situation you put them in. In a way, he saw them as family. A big, dysfunctional family, that more than enjoys the company of one another, and tears down anything in their path. </p><p>With that thought, he drifted off to sleep for the first time in days.</p><p>-</p><p>A blaring alarm coming from Gordon’s left awoke him from his rest, the shrill sound of the clock filling the cramped college dorm. For a moment, he considered just letting the clock go off until he fell back asleep, until eventually the noise was too much for him to physically handle. Rising from his twin sized bed with a measly singular blanket, he slammed his hand on the snooze button and drowsily placed his glasses onto his face.<br/>It would’ve been now that’d he’d get ready for the day, if it weren’t for the pit of anxiety in his stomach. He went through all the assignments in his head that he knew were due soon or were already late, but knew that he’d already submitted everything he needed to. Still, he grabbed onto the bulky school-issued laptop from the foot of his bed just to make sure everything was in order. And, just as he suspected, he was correct. Everything was submitted, and he soon realized that he finally had another free day for once. A good day, as he liked to call them. He’d wake Joshua up from his own, separate twin sized bed that, unlike Gordon’s, actually had a comforter, and they’d go see where the day would take them. Usually, it ended up with them just going to the park for the day, but that was fine with him. He knew Joshua enjoyed it, so he did too.<br/>Because all that mattered was his son's happiness.</p><p>It wasn’t until Gordon realized that his son was no longer in his bed that he found out the real reason why his stomach felt like it was eating itself from the inside out.<br/>His first reaction, like any parents, was panic. Pure, unfiltered panic, that resulted in Gordon looking in places in the dorm that he knew he wouldn’t be, and yelling out into the hallway. </p><p>“JOSHUA! YOU OUT THERE? YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T LEAVE THE ROOM WITHOUT ME!”</p><p>No response.</p><p>“JOSHUA!”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Gordon didn’t even have time to spiral; he pulled on his casual clothing, put his hair up into a loose ponytail without checking to see if it even looked good, and rushed out the door and into the hallway. He continued to call for his son, over and over and over again, but never getting a response from anyone. Not even any of the other students.<br/>That was something else that he’d noticed- there was nobody in the hallways, or anywhere for that matter. He assumed there would be someone going to class, or the sound of a television from a dormitory, but there was nothing and no one. <br/>Pure silence.</p><p>Eventually, after running for god knows how long, Gordon banged on the door of one of his mutuals he knew from his Theoretical Physics class; they’d been paired to do a project together once, and actually got to know each other well. His friend took care of Joshua every once in a while, but only when he had no other options. A last resort, if you will. Besides that, though, they pretty much always hung out together. His friend went on and on about PlayStation and Monster Energy drinks, and Gordon had to keep telling them that both of those things could be harmful in large amounts. His friend always dismissed him, saying that he was just a “wimp.” These conversations would be followed by hours of playing video games, and the intake of far too many energy drinks. </p><p>Of course, there was no response from his friend either. But that wasn’t right, because they always responded. They always responded because they were friends with Gordon and he knew that because they told him. They said they’d always be there if he needed anything, and right now he needed as much help as he could get. And yet, they weren’t there. </p><p>“DUDE! I KNOW YOU’RE HERE- OPEN UP! MY- JOSH IS GONE! WHEN I WOKE UP HE- HE WASN’T THERE! PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!”</p><p>He screamed into the door, praying for a response of any kind. He just needed to know that he wasn’t alone, because he couldn’t fucking stand being alone. Not even in the sense of the situation he currently found himself in; he hated being alone in the sense he had nobody he could lean on. And now, those two themes mixed together in a sickly combination that made Gordon want to puke. <br/>He waited, and he waited. He waited until his feet hurt and he was tired of staring at the wooden door that had it’s paint peeling off from the edges. As a last act of desperation, he grabbed onto the doors handle and attempted to open it.</p><p>It was unlocked.</p><p>He sighed a breath of relief, walking into the room and hoping that maybe Joshua had found himself into his friend's room, and he and everyone else was okay. Or maybe, this was just some prank that the entire school decided to play on him because they just hated him that much.<br/>But it didn’t matter either way, because the dorm was empty. Completely empty, except for a bed that he knew wasn’t his friends in the far right corner. It looked and felt almost like a completely different universe, and he didn’t know how much more of that feeling he could handle. His brain told him repeatedly to not go into the room, since it could be somehow dangerous. It was different, and that was bad. <br/>Gordon went in anyway.</p><p>Much to his surprise, the door didn’t close and lock behind him when he went into the room. It was a classic horror movie tactic that he was more than aware of, and while he knew that they weren’t real, they still affected him in the real world at times. This was one of those times, where his anxiety and fear was maxed out and he couldn’t trust anything. <br/>Upon further inspection, he could tell there was something that vaguely resembled a person fully cloaked underneath the beds covers. It was too tall to be Joshua, but also too short to be his friend. But, what if it was one of them? His hazy mind could’ve messed up their heights. Possibly. That could probably happen, right? Probably.<br/>Maybe.<br/>Like a Lion waiting for the right moment to catch its prey, Gordon prepared himself for more than a few minutes before he was ready to take the sheet off. After all, whatever was under there could be the worst thing he’s ever seen, or it could be a wave of relief. It was a gamble; he knew that very clearly. But, he knew he had to take a chance. Because if he didn’t, he’d spend his life wondering what was under it, and it’d pick at his brain forever until he went insane from it. Finally, he reached his quaking hand out towards the sheet, and pulled it away.</p><p>When Gordon opened his eyes, there was a skeleton on the bed, its skull cracked and missing pieces, and some parts of its limbs missing parts as well.</p><p>He howled at the sight, stumbling backwards and falling flat onto the floor before racing straight out of the dorm without a second thought. He could tell by the way it looked; that was a real, human skeleton, and he didn’t know why it was here, but he wasn’t about to stay to find out, either. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, allowing him to run for what seemed to be miles through the endlessly progressing hallway. He knew it was endless, because no hallway was this long, and he knew the colleges weren’t like this because he lived here. <br/>He only continued sprinting through them because he hoped that maybe he’d eventually reach an end, or something that resembled something other than a door on the side of the wall. But, then he stopped. He stopped running not because he was tired, or he needed a moment to sob, but because he heard something coming from behind him. A slamming noise of sorts, one that he could easily recognize as the sound of a door opening violently and hitting the wall because of the force it was opened with. His entire body trembled and shook and he couldn’t help it because he was absolutely fucking terrified at this point, but he had to know what was happening. He’d rather know what was making the noise and why, than run from something unknown. And so, he turned around.<br/>What looked like to be hundreds, or even thousands of skeletons emerging from the infinite rows of dorms, sprinting at Gordon at their full speeds in a way that seemed like they wanted revenge. Like he had somehow wronged all of them, and they wanted payback because now he was finally within their reach. </p><p>Gordon stood statue still for a couple seconds, unable to comprehend what was happening. He didn’t understand a single goddamn thing, and that made him more upset than anything. He hated not being able to understand things.<br/>But no time for that now. He’d have to figure out later, because he knew if he didn’t start booking it, he’d be torn to shreds and have his organs and bones mangled. <br/>The skeletons clicked and clacked, their joints snapping apart and together as they limped, but still raced after Gordon with clear murderous intent. Their teeth rattled and some even trampled over each other just trying to get that much closer to their target. <br/>Gordon, knowing if he paid too much attention to the details, would freeze up once again, and he’d be torn to shreds. He didn’t plan on that happening today, because he still had to find his son. He needed to know that he was okay, because if he didn’t have Joshua, then he had absolutely nobody. With his heart pounding in his chest, a figure at the supposed end of the hallway appeared. He couldn’t tell how far away the figure was, or if his body would even be strong enough for him to continue running until then, but he had to at least try. He tripped over his own feet once or twice as he sped up, attempting to get to the end as soon as humanly possible.</p><p>As he got closer, he could tell the figure was short and stout, and actually looked like a living, breathing human.<br/>A child.<br/>Joshua.</p><p>The realization that Gordon’s son was at the end of the hallway hit him like a freight train, and as he picked up the pace from the sudden motivation to save his son, the skeletons did as well. He could feel them on his tail, trying to grab at his ankles and the hood of his jacket. But he wouldn’t let them.<br/>As he grew nearer and nearer, the sounds of clicking lessened from deafening to a noise similar to a clock ticking when he grew just a few yards from Joshua. And, when he was only a few feet away, the clicking ceased entirely, and the world went silent once again, save for Gordon’s heavy breathing.<br/>From what he could tell, Joshua looked- confused. He looked like he didn’t understand why his father was panting and looked absolutely awful. It didn’t make any sense to Gordon, but at this point, he didn’t want it to. He was just happy that finally, after that nightmare, he was able to find the one person he truly cared for. His knees buckled under his own weight, and he fell to the floor with his arms wrapped tightly around his son.<br/>Safety.<br/>Joshua was safe.</p><p>“... Dad? Is- Is something wrong? Why are you- tired?”</p><p>“Shh. I’m okay. I’m fine. Everything’s alright.”</p><p>He stroked the back of Joshua’s head, savoring the feeling of another human being after what he’d just experienced. That feeling of pure dread, that hopelessness, he’d never felt anything like that before, and he hated every single second of it. He was probably going to have some sort of PTSD from that, but he didn’t care. Not now, anyways. He’d care later, obviously, but he just wanted a few minutes of peace before then. <br/>Minutes went by with silence, Joshua uncharacteristically not hugging his father back. It was a little odd to Gordon, but he just assumed it was because he was confused. He was just a child, after all. He didn’t understand many things, and that was okay, because he knew he couldn’t help it. Everything was okay.<br/>It’s alright.</p><p>That’s what he thought before he could feel tufts of Joshua’s hair falling away from his scalp and onto the tiled floor below them. Hair, and something else that felt relatively gooey and sticky falling away. It wasn’t until Gordon opened his eyes to see what had become of his son that he realized that he’d melted away into nothing but a skeleton with clothes in his arms. His jacket sleeves were covered with the same gooey substance that he could only horribly assume was blood and skin. <br/>Along with that, they’d both been transported to a new area.</p><p>Outside of Black Mesa.</p><p>The phantom searing summer heat beat onto Gordon’s back, as he was left with nothing but the figure that used to be his son in front of him, and the facility directly behind. He was about to ask questions; what had happened, what was going on, and what the actual fuck the figure was, because he knew that wasn’t his son. Not anymore.<br/>Until the skeleton opened it’s jaw idly in an attempt to mimic speaking. </p><p>“Do you blame yourself?”</p><p>“...Huh?”</p><p>“Well, you see- it’s quite common in these sort of situations for someone like you to feel a type of… guilt.”</p><p>“Wh- What situation? What- What are you even TALKING AB-“</p><p>“The Resonance Casade, Dad.”</p><p>Gordon was about to retaliate- tell the figure that wasn’t his fault, that it was the company’s fault for producing faulty equipment that wasn’t ready for the type of experiment they were conducting and that it wasn’t his fucking fault. </p><p>Until he was cut off by a sound he could only relate to a nuke going off, a flash of green light, and then darkness.</p><p>The accident.</p><p>-</p><p>Gordon woke up with a yelp and in a cold sweat that drenched his entire body and made him feel absolutely disgusting. He was back in the corner of the white room.<br/>It was all a dream. All of it.<br/>But then he realized that Joshua was in his dream. He never had dreams about Joshua unless something awful happened to him, like how when he dreamed that he’d fallen into a volcano and in a panic he rushed over to him, only to find out he was running a 104 degree fever with a serious case of the flu that only a hospital could treat. But then, he’d never said a word. He’d never said a single word throughout the entirety of the dream and in that one it barely even felt real. But this was so much different, because he remembered everything. He remembered the skeletons, the endless hallway, the alarm clock, and how his only son melted away in his arms until he was just a fucking skeleton. </p><p>“Ah, good morning slash afternoon slash evening slash three am, Gordon! Did you have a good re-“</p><p>“I need to get out.”</p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry? We- We all need to get out, Gor-“</p><p>“No, you don’t understand. I NEED TO GET OUT. MY SON IS OUT THERE, DAMN IT! HE NEEDS MY HELP!”</p><p>A frustrated, upset, and flat out raging Gordon yelled back at Coomer, who was just trying his best to make sure everyone was doing the best they could in this situation. <br/>He twisted his body to the side and got up from the cold, unforgiving floor as soon as he could, and banged on the door until his other hand felt like it would fall off. He even went as far to try and kick it down with his injured foot, before realizing that he still had a sprained ankle, which caused him to drop down to the floor with agonizing shooting pain crawling quickly up the side of his leg. <br/>There were no tears this time, though. Just the painful wheezing of an already broken man, in conditions that just tore him apart at the seams.</p>
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